


out of the woodwork

by askmeaboutmyoctopustheory



Series: clintucky fried chicken [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bisexual Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Deaf Clint Barton, Enthusiastic Consent, First Kiss, First Time, Frenemies, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bucky Barnes, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory/pseuds/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory
Summary: Budget cuts hit the school hard this year, forcing the shop teachers to share a classroom.Teachers AU with frenemies to lovers shenanigans





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> howdy its me your friendly chaotic air sign starting another WIP
> 
> i'm gonna preface this that i know pretty minimal car repair shit and even less woodworking shit
> 
> i'm hoping this will get ~saucy~ eventually so rating may change
> 
> if anyone has a better title for this please tell me in the comments
> 
> find me on twitter @_AMAMOT
> 
> kudos and comments make a fic grow big and strong~

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. Hill, really?” Bucky ran his hand through his unruly hair and glared at his boss. 

 

“Hey, Barnes? You know Fury’s got my hands tied.” Principal Hill raised her severe eyebrow. “I could have cut either of you completely but both of your class’s enrollment is up from last year so you’ll just have to work around each other.”   
  
“Fine. I’ll share the shop with Barton.” Bucky crossed his arms in his oil-stained jacket. “I better be exempt from your team building exercises though.”

 

“Fine. You know for an army vet you really don’t do well with authority? Please shut the door on your way out.”

 

“I was a sergeant!” Bucky shouted over his shoulder as he shoved the heavy door open only to collide with another person. “Hey- Watch it.”

 

“Watch where you’re going next time then.” Speak of the devil, Clint Barton, woodshop teacher was glaring down at him. “Hey there grease monkey. Figure we’re here for the same reason”

 

“Yeah rub it in, Barton.” Bucky stormed off, the lingering smell of cedar from colliding with the woodshop teacher making his nose itch.

 

He made his way back to the arts building where his motorcycle was parked in his-now his and Barton’s-classroom. Bucky calmed down a bit when he went in through the garage door and smelled the familiar acrid stench of motor oil. He gathered his bag from his office and poked his head next door to one of the art classrooms to say goodbye to his friend Steve.

 

“You comin’ over tonight?” Bucky asked as he saw the blonde washing brushes in the sink. “I’ve got beer and tests to grade.”

 

“Make it it whiskey, because it’s self portrait week.” Steve responded with a grin.

 

\-----

 

Bucky and Steve found themselves on opposite ends of Bucky’s sectional a few hours later, both engrossed in their own work. Bucky was working on grading the first quiz of the year and Steve was sifting through the portraits for his Drawing 1 class.  _ Keeping Up with The Kardashians  _ played in the background as they made their way through their respective stacks of papers.

 

“So. Heard you’re doubling up with Barton?” Steve asked, breaking their silence of pens on paper.

 

“Yeah. Apparently they’re turning the old woodshop classroom into- get this, a stunt room for the cheer team- so instead of cutting his class we’re just gonna share.” Bucky looked up from the labelled engine drawing in front of him. “Hill excused me from team building retreats and shit though so that’s good.”

 

Steve chewed on his lip, not sure how to respond. He didn’t really know what Bucky’s issue with Clint was, other than that they taught similar courses. Barton was funny and good at his work and the mentor for the archery club. He and Steve got along well, but Bucky wasn’t known for getting along with others. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Steve said finally. “Barton’s not awful, despite what you convince yourself.”

 

“He always leaves the coffee pot empty in the lounge!” Bucky protested. “And he always ignores me when I talk to him!”

 

“Buck-”   
  
“It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” Bucky said, sliding dramatically down the sofa. It was absolutely not fine.

 

\------

 

Bucky was no stranger to spending his weekends doing more work rather than time off, such was the life of a public school teacher, but he was extra annoyed about having to clear out half his space for his new shop partner. Ok so maybe he’d just have to park his motorcycle outside instead of in the shop and he’d finally have to give up on restoring the old mustang that was shoved in a corner. He moved the sofa in his office to the wall and made space for another desk. He looked around the bare half of the garage, hoping there was enough space for-

 

“Mornin’ Barnes.” Clint’s voice came from behind him.

 

Bucky startled and whirled around. He was a goddamn sniper how did he get snuck up on? He looked up at the other man, who was wearing a threadbare purple shirt and gripping two cups of coffee. Clint offered one to Bucky who accepted it wordlessly. Was Barton trying to be his friend? And were Barton’s biceps always that big? He usually wore a jacket during school hours. Bucky was lost in thought as he sipped on the perfectly bitter and dark coffee.

 

“Lotsa space you got here.” Clint gestured around. “I’ll be able to stay out of your way for the most part.”   
  
“Hope so.” Bucky muttered, then grimaced at himself. “That’s not what I meant. I uh. I hope I’ll stay out of yours too. You need help with movin’ your stuff?

 

“I’ve got my truck outside with the heaviest stuff, if you don’t mind lending me some of that muscle of yours to get it in here.”

 

“No problem man. Will ya help me push the ‘stang out afterwards?” Bucky followed Clint out the garage door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the truck in front of him. The thing looked like it was pure rust and held together with paperclips. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to be driving here every day in that.”

 

“Hey! Don’t talk about her like that! Not all of us can have cars as pretty as we are, Barnes.” Clint crossed his arms and scowled. “And if it matters, I get a ride to work with Romanoff.”   


  
“The Russian teacher?” Bucky was confused.

 

“Yeah we live together.” Clint started hefting one of his planers out of the truck bed. “Would you mind getting the other end of this?”

 

The two men unloaded the rest of the equipment in silence, with only a few grimaces and grunts from the heavy lifting. When all the woodshop equipment was haphazardly piled into the shop, Bucky went back to grading the quizzes he failed to finish last night while Clint started calibrating his machines after being moved. Bucky was only interrupted by his stomach telling  him that he hadn’t eaten anything except the coffee Clint had brought him. He stuck his head out the door of his office and saw that Barton had been hard at work setting up his half of the classroom. 

 

“Hey Barton!” Bucky called loudly over the whir of the lathe that the other was bent over. He strode over. “Barton! Clint?”

 

Bucky strode around and stood in the other’s field of vision. Clint looked up and saw Barnes standing across from him, apparently saying something. He held up one finger in the universal “hold on” signal and turned the lathe off and flicked his hearing aides on. 

 

“Sorry. I turn ‘em off when I’m up close to the machines.” Clint grinned sheepishly. “What did you say?”   
  
Bucky was just gaping at him. “I had no idea.”   


  
“You have no idea what you said?”   


  
“That you were Deaf, Barton.” Bucky scratched his neck.

  
“Oh right.” Clint shrugged. He lifted the end of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, revealing a toned abdomen.  “Now you do. And call me Clint, we’re gonna be all up in eachother’s business, might as well drop the formalities.”   
  


“Right. Just call me Bucky.” Bucky received a confused look but Clint didn’t comment. “You hungry?”


	2. Chapter 2

 

The next week had the predictable hiccups of Clint’s students not knowing of the room change and being in awe of the new spacious shop. Bucky’s students likewise had to get used to the sawdust on the floor and constant smell of wood. Despite their initial reservations about the other, Clint and Bucky coexisted well in the same space. Bucky’s tendency to mutter to himself while he worked on lesson plans and his side projects paired well with the fact that Clint could just turn off his hearing aids to not have to listen to it. Their schedules were alternate so they never had to shout over the other or the machinery while they worked. They seemed to have reached a mutual agreement and if they sometimes caught the other watching their work intently, it was just part of the agreement.

 

“How’d the first week with Barnes go?” Natasha asked that Friday as they slid into their usual booth at the bar. “He threaten to lock you in with a car running or anything?”

 

“What? No. He’s fine, we ignore each other.” Clint replied, frowning. “Why would he threaten me?”

 

“I dunno. Dude’s not known as the friendliest of characters.”

 

“Doesn’t mean he wants to  _ kill _ me.”   
  
“Clint I’ve known you almost 10 years and frequently want to kill you.”

 

The conversation was interrupted when a waitress came over with their normal drinks and a basket of fries. They thanked her and gave her cards to open a tab with before she sauntered away. Natasha sipped her martini while Clint took the first drag off his beer bottle in silence.

 

“Anyway. Bucky and I get along fine.” Clint was saying when Natasha sputtered her drink out.

 

“BUCKY?”

 

“Yeah, that’s his nickn-”

 

“I know idiot, he only lets like….two people call him that.”

 

“Well.” Clint sipped and thought about that. “Three, now.” He took another sip and desperately wanted to change the subject. “How’re the girls doing? They gonna be ready for homecoming rally?”   
  
Natasha’s face lit up as it always did when someone asked about the cheerleading team. She had been the varsity coach for several years and had taken them to several state championships. Clint couldn’t even be angry at her for taking over his old classroom for a stunt area. Besides, his new classroom wasn’t even that bad.

 

\------

 

Bucky returned after the long Labor Day weekend spent at Steve’s lake house to an email that he was not at all happy about. There was an all-staff meeting that Superintendent Fury was going to be attending to see how their school was comparing to others in the district. Hill had sent Bucky an email separately reminding him to be on his best behavior and to remember to wash his hands before showing up looking like a greaser. 

 

Bucky hated staff meetings with a passion. Hill usually made them do some sort of icebreaker to begin, then all the science teachers would get in an argument about lab times, then the coaches would try and get even  _ more _ funding, so by the time anyone cared to listen to those who taught electives most of the staff was ornery and hungry. This one was likely not going to be any different, with the added pressure of Hill and Fury eyeing him to make sure he was behaving with Barton. Which he was. 

 

“C’mon Barnes, we can probably still get a seat in the back.” 

 

Clint stood propped up against the doorframe to their shared office. He looked relaxed and tan from the long weekend, probably spent it outside making wood figurines of his girlfriend. Bucky grumbled as he stood up, and began pushing past Barton to get out the door. He was stopped by a calloused hand pushing back on him.

 

“Jacket? To look a little presentable?” Clint had an eyebrow raised and one of Bucky’s bomber jackets extended in his hand. “And wipe the grease off your face?”

 

“Yeah yeah whatever. Let’s go.” Bucky threw the jacket on and wiped his face on the sleeve.

 

“God, you’re worse than my nephew.” Clint shook his head at Bucky.

 

Bucky looked over at him sourly again. Clint had cleaned up a bit for the meeting as well, he was wearing a sport coat over a plain white t-shirt and jeans. Which was dressy for a shop teacher. As he sauntered down the hall to the main school building, Bucky had a sudden understanding of the (inappropriate) “daddy” comments he sometimes overheard from students regarding his officemate. 

 

“You clean up good, Barton.” Bucky only received a snort in response.

 

“I just put a nice jacket on. Most functional adults don’t qualify that as “cleaned up” you know.”

 

“Well most adults don’t give teenagers hand saws either.” Bucky retorted, pushing open the doors to the meeting room.

 

They were able to find a seat in the back where they wouldn’t be the focus of any discussion and Clint had zoned out midway through the science department’s reports. He knew Banner and Odinson were arguing and trying to get more funding for the Science Bowl. Clint startled a bit when he felt Bucky’s combat boot nudge his shin slightly, only to look over to see that the mechanic had written something on his meeting plan printout.

 

_ Can those two just fuck already and spare us the flirting? _

 

Clint snorted, which he turned into a cough when the English department collectively gave him a glare. He bit on his lip and patted himself down to find a pen and jot down a note back to Bucky on his own printout.   
  
**I thought I was the only one who saw it.** ****  
**  
** The two shared a smirk before turning back to pretend to pay attention to the rest of the meeting. Steve announced that the AP art students were going to be painting murals for their project and if you would like a mural in your room, contact him. Lang relayed information about the marching band’s continued success. Ms. Potts announced that the culinary arts class would be doing their canned food drive. Finally, after Clint and Bucky both had nothing to contribute, the meeting was adjourned.

 

“Thank you all for your cooperation!” Hill beamed at them. “Now one last favor, if you could all sign up for at least one committee for this semester on the clipboards. If you don’t, you’ll be assigned one!”

 

The two shop teachers stayed seated as their colleagues filed out, and made their way over to the clipboards with committees.

 

“I usually go with the one that has the least people signed up for it.” Clint stage whispered next to Bucky.

 

“Me too.” Bucky smirked. “Look that one is empty, it’s our lucky day.”   


  
“Write my name too, I can tolerate being on a committee with you.”

 

“Awe, Barton. I’m flattered.”

  
“Don’t let it get to your pretty head, Barnes”

 

Bucky snorted a laugh but signed their names on the clipboard and they were able to slip back to the Industry Arts building uneventfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting ~somewhere~ with these two emotionally constipated bois


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves PTSD and panic attacks, starting with the paragraph tha starts "the next day" until the last paragraph. stay safe!!

“Principal. W-what can we do for you?” 

 

Clint stammered as he hurriedly wiped his saw dust covered hands when he saw Hill stride through the door. Bucky emerged on his floor cart from underneath the old mustang, covered in grease and gripping a wrench. The men exchanged confused looks, being able to count on one of their combined hands how many times Hill had ever visited their classroom.

 

“Gentlemen.” She smiled thinly. “I see you’re getting along well.”   
  
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?” Bucky strode over, wiping his hands off on a rag. 

 

He only got one of Hill’s eyebrows raised in his direction in response before she continued talking. “And thank you for signing up for a committee! Maybe you’re bringing out the best in each other.”   
  
“Yeah.” Clint said warily, not sure where this conversation was going. “That’s it.”

 

“Right” 

 

Hill nodded enthusiastically before handing them both a file folder and looking around. “Always fun to come out here and see what you boys get up too. Let me know of any questions, alright?" Clint stared after her as she walked away, completely bewildered by what just happened. 

 

“Uh. Clint?”   
  
“What just happened?”   
  


“I figured out why nobody else was signed up on that clipboard.” Bucky’s voice was grim as he tilted his open file folder so Clint could see the heading on the first page.

 

**YOUR DUTIES AS HOMECOMING DANCE CHAPERONE**

 

\------

 

Clint apparently had a bottle of Jack Daniels and collapsible metal glasses for occasions such as this. The two men sat on their office sofa sipping the brown liquid moodily. 

 

“There was a reason I didn’t go to this shit when I was  _ in _ high school” Bucky grumped moodily.

 

“What was that reason? Don’t tell me you were scared to ask someone to the dance?”

 

“What? No. I love dancing, just like proper dancing. Not weird high school hormone dancing” Bucky grimaced. “I don’t have to bring a date to this right? I don’t have to subject an innocent soul to that?”

 

“God no. Can’t imagine if I had to find a date to homecoming as an adult.” Clint shuddered.

 

“What?” Bucky didn’t understand. “You won’t take your girlfriend?”

 

“I don’t have a girlfriend, so no I won’t.” Clint looked as confused as Bucky felt. “Did I say I had a girlfriend?”

 

“Romanoff?” 

 

Clint snorted and laughed until his eyes watered. “Oh god, she’s gonna love that. No, Nat and I aren’t dating. Dear lord we’d kill each other.” He wheezed out. “Why? You interested in her?”

 

It was Bucky’s turn to snort. “I uh.” He glanced at the man next to him with apprehension. “Don’t really play for that team.”

 

“Eh, well we can’t all go both ways.” Clint said without hesitation. He raised his little glass to Bucky and downed the few drops left in them. “To homecoming”

 

\-----

 

Natasha barked out a laugh. “You idiots are the only ones I can imagine signing up for chaperone duty on accident.”

 

“Hey! We just didn’t want to be stuck doing some parent-teacher bullshit!” Bucky protested but he laughed along.

 

He already liked Natasha in the few minutes she had been sitting in their classroom on one of the woodworking tables. She was waiting for Clint to be done with his duty as mentor of the archery club and Bucky had stayed behind to get to know her a bit. 

 

“I figure I should apologize to you.” She said once they had finished laughing. Bucky tilted his head in confusion. “I’m the reason you’re stuck with the woodchuck in your space here.”

 

“How are you the reason? I thought it was a cheerleading thing that took over his old room.” 

 

“Yeah, idiot. The cheer team has a coach. It’s me.”

 

“Oh.” Bucky felt awkward so he picked up one of his wrenches and started absently fiddling with an engine on his side of the room. “You don’t need to apologize. I get it, I’d do the same for my team.”

 

“The rifle team isn’t really as high maintenance as the cheerleaders.”   
  
“You said it.” Bucky lifted his hands in a surrender.

 

Clint came crashing through the door just then, out of breath with his recurve bow dangling in his hand. “Sorry ‘tasha. Freshmen almost shot someone again.”

 

“It’s ok. I was getting to know your good ol pal here. Telling him all your dirty secrets”

 

“Gee thanks.” Clint rolled his eyes as Natasha jumped off the table and strode out the door. “See you tomorrow, Buck”

 

\------

 

Clint’s advanced techniques class had chosen to do an intricate gazebo for their project, needing many angles for the build, which meant Clint needed to do paperwork for different tools. If he wanted to get the hardest parts over with, he’d need them to use automatic hammering tools. Which meant he had to get the approval from the safety officer. 

 

“Coulson.”   
  
“Barton. Long time no see.”   
  
“Yeah, well it’s mostly hammers and saws recently.”

 

“Until now.” Coulson looked at the sketch of the gazebo, where Clnt had outlined how they would need to reinforce it in several places with the small and efficient power hammer.

 

“Exactly.” 

 

“Danger of limbs getting severed or anything else?”   
  
“No more than usual.” Clint bit his lip and crossed his fingers in his pocket until he saw Coulson scrawl his signature on the plans, certifying them as approved by the safety officer. “Thanks, Phil.”

 

The next day, the delicate trellises of the gazebo were coming into place beautifully but Bucky was in his office with his head in his hands. He could feel his heart rate rising, but he willed his breathing to be steady. He tried to focus on the gradebook on his computer but the cacophony of rapid pounding grated in his eardrums. The clumsy and irregular strokes of the hammer that usually caused banging sounds had been replaced today with the sharp tattoo of the power tools. Hands clammy, Bucky gave up on his grading and instead just focused on trying to center himself. Another quick succession of pounding, the desert sands of Iraq swirling around his head as he ducked down from his sniper perch. No. He was in his office. He took a shaky breath, eyes clenched shut. It was ok. It was o-Bucky yelped as he heard a crash outside his door. He had to duck, there was sand flying everywhere. He had to get down. His arm was throbbing, did he get more shrapnel in it? It was so hot. They had found him, they found him. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, 32557. They had their hands on his shoulders, probably taking him away.

 

“Buck…..”

 

“Bucky”

 

“Bucky. Hey. There we go big guy.” 

 

Bucky blinked into the fluorescent light that was definitely not the Iraqi sunlight. The cement floor he was sitting on was not sand. The hand on his shoulder was the woodshop teacher. His head was pounding and he groaned and pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes.

 

“Hey Buck? Can you tell me one color you can see?”   
  
“You know goddamn well everything you own is purple.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse. Had he been screaming?

 

“Can you open your eyes and tell me three things that are purple?

 

Bucky blinked at the blonde in front of him. He was huddled in the far corner of their office. “I can see your shirt, your longbow above your desk, and your thermos.”

 

Clint nodded and offered him a hand to stand up, only to deposit him onto the sofa. “You want water? Coffee?”

 

Bucky just shook his head, refusing to meet the other’s eyes. 

 

“I didn’t know, Buck.”

 

“Well. Now you do.” Bucky replied, an odd sense of deja vu from one of their very first conversations. He looked directly at Clint for the first time and was surprised to find no pity or sadness in the other man’s eyes.

 

“How’s your arm? You were holding it against your body.” Clint’s voice trailed off as Bucky took his jacket off to reveal his short sleeves. His left arm was a mess of scar tissue, mangled with stretched and grafted skin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

“It’s ok.”

 

That day in the office marked something between the two handymen, even if they weren’t entirely sure what it was. Bucky spent more time watching Clint teach from behind the engines or mopeds he had on his side. He would occasionally yell a wood-related innuendo during Clint’s lectures, much to the delight of the students. Bucky went out on a Friday night with Clint and Natasha, since Steve had a date with the US history teacher in whose room he was painting a mural. Clint had told Bucky about his own issues with trauma in the past, his less-than-ideal upbringing in the circus.. Much to Bucky’s delight, Clint drove his beater of a truck in one day, backing it up to the garage door and telling the advanced auto students to go wild. They had expanded their comfortable routine to involve the other more, and it became more comfortable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any guesses who the history teacher that steve went on a date with is?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how many tropes can i fit in a chapter?

**To: legolas**

**From: Natasha Romanoff**

**4:26pm**

 

**We’re practicing late today, sorry. I can give you a ride home still if you want, but it’ll be a bit later.**

 

Clint sighed and looked at the pile of whittled sticks in front of him. He supposed he could get them all graded in the time it took Natasha to make her cheerleaders run their Homecoming routine a thousand times. Homecoming spirit week was next week, making the whole school buzz in excitement. It also meant the dreaded homecoming dance and chaperoning was looming in the near future.

 

**To: Not a Russian Spy**

**From: Clint Barton**

**4:30**

 

**I’ll wait for you for a bit. No promises I don’t try to hitchhike and get kidnapped.**

 

**To: legolas**

**From: Natasha Romanoff**

**4:31**

 

**Please don’t, it looks like it’s gonna rain and I don’t want to hold a manhunt in a storm.**

 

Clint took to sorting the whittling projects from his Beginners Techniques class into categories based on if he could tell what it was or not. He had given them three options to choose to emulate for their test. There were a fair amount of pieces in front of him that resembled the hedgehog, tree, or fish that they were supposed to be copying. There were also several projects that were roughly hewn approximations of an animal, the cuts jagged and irregular. Clint was mostly through grading the “OK” pile when the classroom door swung open and Bucky walked through.

 

“Why’re you still here?”   


  
“Nat’s keeping the girls late tonight, preppin’ ‘em for homecoming next week.” Clint leaned his chair back on two legs and propped his arms behind his head. “Why? You bringin’ a hot date over and want me to leave?”

 

Bucky snorted. “Nah, fellas ain’t linin’ up for a date with me. I was just surprised to see you here this late. You’re usually out of here as soon as you can be. Makes sense if the cheerleaders are practicing late.” He picked up one of the pieces from the ‘what is this’ pile of whittling projects and scowled at it like it had personally offended him. “Anyway, I can give ya a ride home. If you don’t mind the bike.”   
  
Clint swallowed. He didn’t mind the bike at all, he really liked Bucky’s motorcycle, in fact. He liked how Bucky rode it directly into the classroom through the garage door with a devil-may-care attitude and his jeans stretched over his thighs as they straddled the bike. 

 

“Thanks Buck. That’d be great.” Clint smiled but was internally panicking. “Nat will probably be here way later than she expects anyway. Let me just get my stuff.”

 

Bucky nodded and went over to his bike. He rummaged through the saddlebags hanging off the sides for his spare helmet, trying not to think about how Clint would be pressed up on his back for their ride to his house with those biceps wrapped around his waist. 

 

“Thanks again. You ready?” Clint had his messenger bag strapped onto his back and was standing next to Bucky’s motorcycle. He was decidedly ignoring the eggplant emoji-laden messages from Natasha.

 

“Yeah.” Bucky extended the extra helmet to him. “You ever ridden a bike before?”

  
  
“Nah but I got a pretty good idea of balance.” Clint shot him a half smile. “Tightrope walkers will do that to ya.”

 

“Right.” Bucky situated himself on his bike and felt the body heat of Clint sitting behind him. “Hold on tight.”

 

Clint lived in a small brick apartment building in the old warehouse district that had been recently gentrified. Natasha told him their flat was ‘hipster’ but it was nice enough and the landlord hadn’t upped rent in years. It was a short ride on the motorcycle but Clint already knew he was going to be thinking about the smell of Bucky’s aftershave right under his nose as he held himself close to the mechanic’s back. The masculine scent mixed with the smell of his old leather jacket and the smell of light rain in the air around them. 

 

“You wanna come in for a bit? Maybe wait til the rain stops to ride back to your place?” Clint asked after they had pulled into the parking lot. “Nat won’t be back for a while, we could order a pizza or somethin if you’re hungry.”   


  
Bucky’s eyes flickered up to the grey clouds in the sky and twisted his mouth, thinking. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got some lesson plans to write up though.”

  
  
“Yeah me too.” 

 

\------

 

The rain had not let up, it seemed, as Natasha slumped through the door to her and Clint’s apartment many hours later. She had worked her team long and hard, but the routine was finally flawless. She had gotten soaking wet in the short time it took her to walk from her car to the apartment and saw Bucky and Clint sitting on the sofa with a stack of graded papers between them and pizza boxes on the coffee table.

 

“Hey Nat!” Clint scooched on the sofa to give her a space to sit. “I figured you’d be a while with the team.”

  
  
“Yeah.” She smiled but looked tired. “Thanks for babysitting this idiot all afternoon Barnes."

 

“Ah it wasn’t so bad.”

 

“Wow, a ringing endorsement of friendship.” Clint said sarcastically. He got up to clear off the empty pizza boxes and grab them all some beers. “Buck you wanna crash here tonight? It’s raining cats and dogs out there and I’d feel like an asshole making you ride home in it.”

  
  
“I’ve never heard someone use that idiom unironically until now.” Natasha snorted. “But yeah Barnes, let’s have a slumber party. We can talk about the boys we like and braid each other’s hair.”

 

Bucky weighed the pros and cons of riding across town in the pouring rain versus possibly waking up his new friends in the middle of the night if he had a loud nightmare. “Yeah ok. You’ll have to lend me clothes tomorrow, Barton.” He tried to ignore the twist in his stomach at the thought.

 

It was still raining the next morning so the three teachers all crammed into Natasha’s prius, breakfast burritos in hand and coffee in the cupholders. She pulled into the teacher parking area and wordlessly saluted Clint and Bucky on their walk to the Industrial Arts building. Bucky was wearing one of Clint’s purple flannel shirts, pulled tight across his chest and shoulders but too long in the sleeves. It smelled like coffee and pine and like Natasha’s air freshener and it was going to be distracting Bucky all day. His first period class was already standing around the moped that they were working on when he and Clint walked in together.

 

“Is that Mr. Barton’s shirt?” Pietro, one of the foreign exchange students stage whispered to nobody in particular as Bucky walked up after putting his things in the office.

 

“Oh my god.” One of the female students stage whispered back.

 

“Didn’t see that one coming” Pietro responded sarcastically.

 

“Alright class! We’re going to go through and work on removing the carburetor and putting it back. You’ll all do it so you’ve got to replace it correctly for the person after you. Then we’ll troubleshoot to see if the problem with this old thing is in the carburetor.” He looked around at his class, they all seemed to be nodding. “Any questions?”

 

“You might want this.” A voice from his shoulder made him start. It was Clint with his travel mug of coffee. “Don’t let him near any power tools without caffeine, kids!” 

 

The class laughed and Bucky gave him a soft smile. The students exchanged a knowing glance at the expense of their normally grouchy and hardass teacher. The classes went on in their normal routine and at lunch there was apparently a catered spread at the teachers lounge.

 

“I hope there’s pizza.”   


  
“We had pizza last night.”

 

“So?” Clint shrugged. “Oh also. Do you know what ‘shipping’ means?”   


  
“Uh like boats?”   


  
“No like relation-shipping” 

 

“Oh.” Bucky did know, but he didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I guess, a little. Why?”

  
  
Clint blushed and suddenly looked down at their feet as they walked down the hall to the lounge. “Uh my students ship us apparently.” 

 

“Oh.” Bucky felt his face grow hot too. “I think I heard mine say something similar today actually.” He gave a shrug with his good shoulder. “Hey look there’s pizza.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> real talk this chapter made me feel things

“Do you think Ms. Potts chose her career because her last name is something you cook with?” Clint’s voice loudly mused as he walked into the room the next week. He was wearing fox ears and green tunic for “cartoon day” of homecoming spirit week. A quiver was strapped onto his back.

 

Bucky just chuckled and shook his head. “Nice tights. Way to be predictable, Robin hood.”

  
“I’m not the one wearing coordinating outfits with my best friend.” Clint gave the skin tight leather Batman outfit Bucky was wearing a once over. He had already seen Steve wearing a superman costume. “And they’re not tights, they’re just really tight pants.”

 

“You mean Nat’s not dressed as Maid Marian? Color me shocked. Is Potts dressed as the one from Beauty and the Beast?”

 

“Talk about predictable.”   


  
Their banter had gotten more and more playful over the month and a half they had been sharing space. Clint hadn’t asked Bucky for his shirt back and Bucky didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t washed it because he like how it smelled. He had held it close to his face a few nights ago when he woke up in a sweaty panic, letting the familiar scent rush over him. He knew he was falling for Clint, hard, which could only be a bad idea. Bucky’s students were getting bold with their shipping comments, but luckily he was good at ignoring chatter from his students. He flickered his eyes over to Clint’s side of the room, watching him prep for the day.

 

“Didn’t think you’d be big into school spirit, Barton”

 

“I live with the cheerleading coach, Buck.” Clint grinned over at him. “You try not getting into school spirit when your apartment looks like a green and gold pinata.”

 

“I have an idea, your side of the office is like looking at a grape popsicle.”

 

Clint’s witty comeback was cut off by the first period bell ringing and Bucky’s students filing in. It was always fun teaching when most of his students were wearing wacky outfits, even if his leather pants were going to rub uncomfortably soon. Steve and his new boyfriend Sam had both told him that they made his ass look good, teasing him mercilessly when he had told them he might have a crush on Clint. He could pull off the dark and broody Batman look and so he played it up. That didn’t stop him from pulling off the leather shirt as soon as the last period bell rang, relieving his arms of the chafing and unstretching fabric. 

 

“Aren’t superheros supposed to be able to move around? This shit’s uncomfortable.” Bucky griped as he walked into the office.

 

Clint made a strangled noise that he turned into a cough. Bucky in leather pants and a wife beater was not a visual he was expecting while updating his gradebooks. He recovered quickly, grinning and swinging his feet up onto his desk. “Funny, these ‘tights’ as you call them are very comfortable.”   


  
“Beauty is pain Barton.” Bucky said with a wink as he strode out and left Clint to sweat over the exchange that just occurred.

 

“You gonna ask him to be your date? Get him a nice boutonniere and hold his hand at the dance?” Nat’s voice startled him, she had apparently come in right as Bucky left. “Get it together woodchuck.”

 

“Please.” Clint scowled at her and started gathering his things. “I don’t stand a chance with him.”

  
  
Nat just snorted and waved her hand at him. “If you need to finish your work we don’t have to rush out of here.”

  
  
“You’re just saying that so you can put off making dinner tonight.”

 

\----

 

Friday came much too soon, with the student body buzzing in anticipation for the homecoming game that night and the dance the next day. Bucky had been watching the ‘proposals’ of asking someone to accompany them to the dance with growing curiosity. He didn’t understand it and expressed as much to Clint that day at lunch.

 

“What ever happened to just askin’ them huh?” He chewed on his sandwich on the sofa in their office. “It’s gotta be this big ‘ol ordeal now.”   
  
“You sound like an old man Barnes.” Clint teased him as he sipped on coffee. “Let the kids have their fun. Plus it gives it a personal touch. Way better than stammering over asking the pretty girl in your PE class.”   


  
“That sounded personal.”

 

“Yeah well. We aren’t all naturally charming Bucky.”

 

“At least you didn’t go as the gay friend.” Bucky shot back moodily. “You think I’m charming?”   
  


 

Clint snorted. “Have you  _ heard _ the freshman girls who haven’t been exposed to your snark? They think you’re some sort of James Dean.”

 

“Well.” Bucky blushed a bit. He strode towards the door. “I think it’s needless to say that’s a lost cause on their part”

 

The bell to end lunch rang through the building and Bucky’s next class came in. There was a pep rally during the class period after and then one more period after that. What Clint was now realizing, is he had the rest of the day off but no way of leaving. He stood in the doorway of the office and watched Bucky teach his advanced class. Most of the students were juniors or seniors and they were still working on getting Clint’s old truck running smoothly. Bucky led the advanced class as less of a teacher and more of a co-worker, rolling up his sleeves a bit and working alongside the students as they might in a real auto shop. Bucky caught Clint watching him and grinned and brushed his hair off his face, smearing oil on his forehead. Clint chuckled, and people thought  _ he _ was the disaster?

 

He thought about what they had talked about at lunch and he felt angry that Bucky had always been reduced to a stereotype in High School. Clint brushed off his main work table, picking up a piece of ash in his basket of scrap wood and his whittling knife. He was able to mostly get lost in the scraping and smoothing motion, letting his mind drift. Natasha had been urging him to talk to Bucky about his feelings that weren’t so co-workerly for a few weeks. He knew it was cheesy as hell, but maybe the hoopla of the week had made him nostalgic for his own homecoming. Clint carefully smoothed the piece in his hand, looking over his work bench for a stain. He found a dark finish that was mostly empty, deciding to slather the small piece of wood with the dark liquid. Before he knew it, he had been focused on his project for several hours and he would have to hurry to get a ride home with Natasha before she had to turn around and come back for the football game tonight. He rushed to the office and rushed out before he could talk himself out of what he had just done. 

 

“Bye Buck!” 

 

Bucky waved at him half heartedly from where he was deep in conversation with a senior who wanted to use him as a reference for a job in the auto industry. He had been stealing glances over at Clint, who had been engrossed in what looked like a half-hearted attempt at whittling for the past two and a half class periods. The man had terrifying focus when he was doing his projects, and it was always a pleasure to watch. Clint had no doubt lost track of time and had to rush out to get home. Bucky spent time closing all the hoods and covers of all the projects his classes were working on. He couldn’t help but grin at Clint’s truck, now running much more efficiently due to his class’s handiwork. It was Friday, so Bucky could put off updating his grade books so he allowed himself to get into weekend mode. His heart twisted however when he walked in the office and saw what Clint had presumably been working hard on.

 

There was a wooden rose on his desk. A rich, dark brown color and with petals thinner than paper. The grain stood out on the fanned outer petals and the stem ended in an arrowhead. There was a purple sticky note under it, with Clint’s writing on it, clearly hastily scrawled.

 

_ See you tomorrow night? And not as my gay friend.  _

_ ⬷ _

_ P.S I know how to “actually” dance _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can finally thank the bad decisions buddies discord for sprinting with me *look ma i'm a real winterhawk writer*
> 
> thanks anyone who's commented or left kudos! you are my lifeblood :D


	6. Chapter 6

Clint was unnecessarily nervous as he straightened his bow tie for the 10th time. He never failed to feel like a dancing monkey dressed up wearing the stiff fabric. He had reluctantly let Nat artfully tousle his hair and put some concealer on some of the more noticeable cuts on his face. He had a plain black shirt on, accented with a shocking purple bowtie and suspenders. Nat had instructed him to roll his sleeves up and had matching purple socks for him picked out. 

 

“You’re definitely the only adult I know who’s had their first date at a high school homecoming dance.”

 

“It’s not a date.” Clint said sharply. “It’s not like we’d have time to do anything.”

 

“Yeah but the kids’ll be out of there by 10. You’re not on cleanup so you can have a nightcap.”  Nat was fussing with his suspenders. She looked over his shoulder at him in the mirror. “Do you want me to make myself scarce after 10?”

 

“I don’t think I’ll need you to Nat. Thanks though.” Clint smiled thinly. He hadn’t heard from Bucky all day and had gone through all the emotions of a teenager experiencing their first crush. He was determined to be a professional about it and move past it since Bucky clearly didn’t feel the same way. “Lucky you, not having to go through this shit.”   


  
“I’m not idiotic enough to sign up for a committee without looking what it is.” She shot back at him, before softening her glare. “You look good Barton.”

 

“Thanks.” He picked up her car keys and put on his leather jacket. “I’ll be back.”

 

\-----

 

Bucky turned the delicately carved wood over and over in his hand. He had typed out and deleted several messages to Clint. His head was spinning trying to convince himself that Clint didn’t possibly mean it the way Bucky thought he did. His phone buzzed with a text from Sam, who he was trying to get along with for Steve’s sake. It was time for him to leave to pick Sam up to carpool-or bikepool in this case- to the school. Bucky shoved the wooden rose into the pocket of his nicest jeans. He had tried to clean up the best he could, he was a mechanic for fucks sake. His dark jeans were some designer brand his sister had gotten him and didn’t have any tears or oil stains. His black button down and black jacket both fit him well and he couldn’t help but brush over his lapel where a boutonniere would go. He shot Sam a text that he was on his way over and felt the wooden rose in his pocket the whole ride to school.

 

“Oh! Barnes! Wilson! Thank goodness.” vice principal Carter rushed over with a clipboard, her blonde hair flying about. “Wilson, I have you in the dance area. Barnes, you’re monitoring the coat check with Barton.”

 

Great, sitting in a room that smelled like sweaty teenager with Clint for several hours. He didn’t know why he was so apprehensive of Clint; his therapist would probably tell him it was that he didn’t believe that good things could happen to him. He wandered into the random classroom that had been set up as a coat check and locked eyes with Clint. He saw the blond’s eyes trace over his jacket and his face fell minutely. Bucky felt like he had been punched in the gut at the forced smile that was then plastered over Clint’s face. He needed to get over whatever insecurities he had and talk to Barton.

 

“Hey, Buck-er Mr. Barnes.” Clint’s eyes flickered to the students that were leaving the classroom. There was a lingering pause during which Bucky thought his heart would hammer out of his chest. He pulled the carved rose out of his pocket and Clint blushed deeply and started stammering. “Listen, Buck-you don’t have to- I just thought-”   


  
“Clint.” Bucky’s firm voice cut him off. He looked at the ground. “I think your date’s supposed ‘t pin your flower on.”

 

Clint met his eyes finally, lips parted in shock. “You-You mean?” he tried to recover. “I thought you didn’t go to this typa thing in high school.”

 

“You gonna put this on my jacket or not Barton?”

 

Bucky held out the rose in one hand, which Clint covered with his own hand for a moment as he stepped into Bucky’s personal space. He had to peer down his crooked nose when he was this close to Bucky, and he was focusing on not having his hands shake as he pinned the rose to Bucky’s jacket. He swallowed and tilted his head down, letting his forehead rest on Bucky’s and he rested his hands on the mechanic’s hips.

 

“We all saw that one coming” Pietro cut in from the door where he stood with his twin sister.

 

\-----

 

As it turned out, being in charge of coat check was a largely uneventful job. The two men were reclining, Clint’s feet kicked up onto Bucky’s chair while he rubbed circle onto Clint’s calloused hands. They had been murmuring and confessing sweet nothings to eachother in between the students stumbling in and out of the room to collect their things. When the room was cleared of various belongings, they walked out hand in hand.

 

“Ahhhh I knew it!” Steve, who had come for cleanup, crowed. Sam stood next to him with a wicked grin.

 

“Shut it Rogers.” Bucky scowled at him but broke into a grin when Clint squeezed his hand. He turned to his newly-acquired boyfriend and lowered his voice. “You wanna get out of here?”   


  
“I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned and leaned into Bucky’s warm side. 

 

They all but ran to where Bucky’s bike was parked far away from the hubbub of the dance. He rummaged in his saddle bag for the spare helmet but felt strong hands pull him back up and spin him around to sit sidesaddle on his bike.

 

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night.” 

 

Clint had one hand cupping Bucky’s jaw and the other stroking his side under his suit jacket. He leaned in and pressed their mouths together, tentative and exploring. Bucky braced his arms on either side of him to keep from falling backwards on his bike as he flicked his tongue into Clint’s mouth. He pulled back to breathe, only to be crowded against as Clint deepened the kiss, wrapping his hands around Bucky’s back and humming into his mouth.

 

“Mm how about we take this somewhere else?” Bucky finally managed to pull back. “I believe here is where I say ‘your place or mine?’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE GETTING SOMEWHERE
> 
> SAUCY TIMES NEXT CHAPTER


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is just porn
> 
> literally thats it
> 
> feel free to skip it if you want

They had barely crashed through the door of Bucky’s loft apartment when Clint had Bucky pinned back up against the door, trailing hot kisses down his neck. Bucky threw his head back, chest heaving and hands tangled in the blond hair as Clint was shoving their jackets to the floor and working Bucky’s shirt open to leave kisses down his torso. He sucked right above Bucky’s jeans, sure to leave a mark on the thin skin. He nuzzled at the dark happy trail under his navel before standing back up to kiss Bucky’s pink and swollen lips. 

 

“Buck.” his voice was hoarse, but he knew this discussion had to happen sooner or later. “What-How...uh.” Clint swallowed, his brain fuzzy with arousal and not wanting to form a complete sentence.

 

“I just want you, sweetheart.” Bucky sounded equally fucked. “I want you to take me apart and make my neighbors have no doubt what my new boyfriend’s name is.” Clint inhaled sharply, his mouth leaving bruises along Bucky’s collarbone. “Want you to fuck me Clint.”

 

Clint pulled back from where he had crowded Bucky against the door. He let the shorter man grab his hand and lead him up the stairs to the loft where his bed presumably was. Bucky stopped every few stairs, leaning down to kiss Clint on the step below him and laughing at the reversed height difference. By the time the reached the top, he had also shucked Clint’s suspenders off and untied the bright bowtie. His nimble fingers made quick work of the shirt buttons and Bucky shucked both their shirts off somewhere onto the stairs. When they were back on level ground with the bed in sight, Clint reattached his mouth to Bucky’s and walked them backwards. 

 

Bucky fell back onto his bed and wrapped his legs around Clint’s hips, pulling him closer with his thighs. The blond straddled him and ground their clothed erections together while trailing his fingertips down Bucky’s exposed chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Bucky grew impatient and grabbed Clint’s wrist to guide his hand to where his jeans were uncomfortably tight.

 

“Needy are we?” Clint’s voice was gravelly as he worked the button of Bucky’s jeans open and pushed them down a bit to expose Bucky’s purple boxer briefs. “And apparently confident, purple?”

 

“Shut it Barton, and take your pants off.” Bucky scooted up towards his luxurious stash of pillows, shucking his jeans and boxers off, which had the desired effect of shutting Clint up.

 

“Bossy.” Clint mouthed along Bucky’s hipbone. “I don’t know if I should indulge that, baby”

 

Bucky was suddenly much less talkative and much more whiny. Looking down and seeing Clint’s face so close to his cock was making any words seem like too much brain processing. He was leaving bruises all along where Bucky’s pants would sit and feel where his mouth had been. The calloused fingers dipped down and cupped his balls, while lips skimmed right around the base of his cock.

 

“Can I?” Clint licked his lips and looked up at Bucky through his eyelashes. 

 

“Fuck. Yes. Please. Your mouth, your hand anything fuck” 

 

Bucky squirmed and whined, but was shut up when Clint licked up his cock like a popsicle and swirled his tongue around the tip. He suckled on the tip and pushed deeper into his mouth with every bob of his head. Bucky’s hands flew to the blond hair as he felt Clint’s cheeks hollow out and hum around his lenght. 

 

“Fuck, fuck. ‘M not gonna…” Bucky scrambled to grasp at the short hair. “Clint. Baby. Just fuck me, please”

 

“You got-” Clint lifted his head to see that Bucky was already rummaging in his bedside drawer. He took the opportunity to explore Bucky’s chest with his mouth, noticing that he had one of his nipples pierced. He must have missed it in their earlier haste. He gave the metal a tentative lick, causing Bucky to arch his torso.

 

“You wanna watch me prep myself? It’ll be faster if I do it and right now I can’t wait for you to get inside me.” Bucky propped himself up on his forearms, kissing Clint to taste himself.

 

Clint sat back and finally undid his own pants, letting his cock spring free. He wrapped a hand loosely and jerked himself slowly as he watched Bucky warm up the lube on his fingers. Bucky had his fingers in himself and was scissoring them gently, making delightful noises that Clint wanted to be able to pull from him. When he added his third finger he moaned so filthily that Clint had to grip his cock to keep from blowing his load at the sight.

 

“You ready baby? I can’t just watch this anymore.” Clint leaned over him and kissed him again, pressing him into the mattress and fumbling around blindly to find the box of condoms. 

 

He rolled it down over his hard cock, stroking more lube on for good measure. Settling between Bucky’s legs, he pressed a kiss to his kneecap before grinning at him. Clint took a deep breath and lined himself up with Bucky’s entrance, exhaling as he breached the rim and felt the tight heat around his tip. He rolled his hips a bit, just teasing his tip and Bucky’s rim with shallow thrusts. 

 

Bucky whined and made grabby hands at Clint, who was tensed as tight as his bowstring trying not to thrust in all at once. He pulled Clint forward, sighing and throwing his head back as he felt himself become full. When Clint bottomed out, Bucky propped himself up on his forearms to watch as he set a steady pace. He started to lift his hips to meet Clint’s thrusts until-   
  


“Oh!” Bucky clenched and his mouth dropped open when he felt his prostate get nudged.

 

Chasing the same angle, Clint started picking up the pace and and hitting Bucky’s prostate everytime he bottomed out. He could feel his release building in his gut, so he pulled Bucky upright so they were both seated. Bucky’s cock was heavy and leaking precome in one of Clint’s hands while the other gripped around his back as he kissed him and rolled his hips deep and hard.

 

Bucky came with a shout against Clint’s lips and shot hot ropes of cum all over their stomachs. Watching him fall apart sent Clint over the edge, filling the condom with his release. They sat for a moment, their foreheads touching as they huffed heavy breaths. They were both sweaty and the whole room smelled like sex. Clint started to laugh, gently pulling out when his laugh made his body shake.

 

“Definitely not how homecoming went when I was in school” He said, tieing off the condom and tossing it perfectly into the trash can

 

Bucky just looked at him fondly as he wiped his stomach off with a random floor t-shirt. “You’re actually the worst you know that?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhh yeah alright one more chapter/epilogue and thats it for these idiots!
> 
> thanks for all the comments and shit! you guys are the best


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ahh thanks for coming on this journey with me! i love all yall and i appreciate the love you've given to me in the comments!

Bucky tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Hill outside her office. When she strode in with clicking heels she just gave him an exasperated look. 

 

“I need an HR form”

 

“Not that I’m surprised.” Maria sat down at her large desk and rummaged through a drawer. “Who’d you piss off now.”   
  
“Appreciate the vote of confidence, Hill.” Bucky felt his face grow red. “But I uh. I actually need the form for a workplace relationship.”

 

“Who-”   
  


Clint crashed through the door, clutching two coffee cups. “Sorry ‘m late.”

 

Hill leaned back in her chair and observed the two men as Clint settled in the other chair facing her. They clearly had a bit of a morning routine, with Clint handing Bucky one of the coffees while Bucky tried to make the blond’s hair less of a disaster. They stared fondly at each other, sipping coffee until she cleared her throat and they seemed to startle and looked sheepishly at her.

 

“Well I guess I was right about something.” She said smugly as she slid the forms over her desk for them to sign.

 

“What?” Bucky said cautiously, not wanting to let Hill gloat.

“You bring out the best in each other.”

 

\-----

 

“What’d it take to convince you to recreate that scene from  _ Titanic _ in that Mustang we both know you’re never gonna finish?”

 

They were sipping whiskey at the hotel bar after the last of the seniors had left prom.

 

“I’m not having sex at the school.”

 

\-----

 

A year later, in matching tuxedos, they walked out of the brewery that had hosted their wedding reception. Clint’s jaw dropped and he turned to Bucky with a look of shock. His husband just smiled and handed him the key to the Mustang.

 

Not a single student batted an eye at the new sign on the classroom door. It was custom woodwork, carved from maple and painstakingly intricate, reading “Mr and Mr Barnes-Barton”.

 


End file.
